


Showdown

by commanderlurker (honeybee592)



Series: Cats, the V is silent [3]
Category: Star Wars Legends: The Old Republic
Genre: Character Death, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-22
Updated: 2018-10-22
Packaged: 2019-08-06 02:26:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,455
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16379651
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/honeybee592/pseuds/commanderlurker
Summary: Cats confronts Darmas Pollaran and finds out who he really is. It does not go well for Darmas.





	Showdown

**Author's Note:**

> This is a bit brutal, FYI.

Cats stalks into the room with Flashy raised, but Corso grabs her and directs her to a nearby crate. Darmas is here, chatting with two assistants. He hasn’t seen them. They could still get the jump--

Cats steps out, Flashy still raised. Corso ’s stomach sinks to the floor. He steps out as well, but keeps Torchy holstered.

Darmas cuts off mid sentence and smiles insipidly at Cats and Corso. "You just don't give up, do you, Captain!"

No hesitation, Cats blasts one assistant, then the other. They fall to the floor. No armor, no shields. Holy shit. Darmas at least has the dignity to look worried. He should be. Flashy’s pointing right at him.

He puts his hands up. "Now now, no need to be hasty." And Darmas whips out his own blaster and fires.

Cats is fast enough and ducks, returning with her own fire. This isn’t Corso’s first gun fight, he knows when the talking’s done, so he rolls to cover and opens fire the same time as Cats. Two on one. It’s not a fair fight, but when has Darmas ever been fair? Never, it seems.

He’s wearing more than just that fancy suit, that’s for sure. Takes more than Corso thought it would to get Darmas’ down, but he goes to his knee with a shout of “ _Enough_ ” and drops his blaster. One hand goes up. The other is wrapped around his ribs. “I should have settled this with sabacc,” he says. Cats doesn’t move. Doesn’t say anything. “So, Captain Cats. The V is silent, of course. What will it take for me to walk out of here? I know you always have your price.” That's as close to begging as Darmas will get, Corso thinks.

“Who. Are. You.” Cats enunciates each word like she's spitting out gravel.

Darmas’ face curls into a grimace. Pain or anger, Corso’s not sure. “I am a citizen of the Empire, an agent of Imperial Intelligence. Always have been, always will be. You want revenge? Go after Dodonna. No one cares about some cantina spy, but a senator? She’s your ticket out of here. Let me go and I’ll give you everything I have on her, right from the day I recruited her.”

The Empire? Imperial Intelligence? Corso glances from Darmas to Cats, still not believing but unable to deny what Rogun revealed back in Rogun’s safe house. But Darmas is right, she’ll have to take him in. He’s got too much valuable information stored away in that brain of his. Information broker. For the Empire. _Shit_.

Cats steps forward, one step, two. " _Nothing_ will make up for the way you used me." She smacks him so hard across the face with her blaster that his bones audibly crack. Corso winces. Darmas falls, but catches himself. He’s on hands and knees now. Blood drips on the floor. He looks up, right at Cats. Corso can’t read his expression, not really. He’s too scared to look at Cats so he focuses on the blood oozing from the open gash on Darmas’ cheek. The bright red shimmers under the operating room lights. It’s pretty.

Flashy comes into view, raised, right at Darmas’ forehead, mere centimeters away. If she pulls the trigger, then--

Half of Darmas’ head is smeared on the floor and wall. The other half’s still attached by a tendon, his body prone. A patch of hair slips over, revealing one eye, open.

“You know what I do to double crossers?” Cats yells. The sound echos. “ _Blast_ them in the _nuts_.”

But she doesn’t blast him in the nuts. She kicks him, hard, right in the nuts. The soft tissue squelches and Corso’s stomach turns. She kicks Darmas again. And again. Each kick more brutal, raw rage ripping out from her throat. There’s blood on her boot. The tenuous link between Darmas’ head and neck breaks.

Corso snaps to and grabs her, pulls her back. “Whoa, Captain.” She tries to yank free but he holds tight. “Cats, Cats, come on, he’s dead.” He pulls her away, drags her from the mutilated body and sits her down on one of the beds. He wraps his arms around her and she does the same, gripping him and shaking. She buries her head in his shoulder and screams. His shoulder warms up, all damp heat, and he can’t do much more than hold her. The scream turns into a crying jag. Her fingers pull at his shirt--her shirt, still, after all these years.

He holds her, but he can’t take his eyes off the bits of Darmas on the floor. He might throw up. He swallows a mouthful of bile.

Darmas had been a contact for years, years before Cats had come along. Got information for Viidu when Viidu needed it. Even came through with a little something to get Corso out of tight spot once. And Corso had led Cats straight to him. Introduced them, encouraged her to use his worldly knowledge and contacts to find Skavak and her ship. Said she could trust him.

Corso’s lips twist with guilt. He didn’t know. How could he? None of them knew. He’ll replay every conversation later, looking for clues, for fingers pointing to the truth, but he knows there’s no point. And it’s not like Darmas was all bad, surely. Without him, they’d still be looking for Cats’ ship and hunting down Skavak. That has to count for something.

A crying shudder catches Cats. He tries shushing her, patting her hair. He loves her, still. Hopeless, he knows that, but he loves her. She’d come into his life at the right time. Maybe she'd just been the right person at the right time for Darmas, too.

The wheels turn in Corso’s head. Contacts. Timings. Think like an information broker. A spy. Darmas had his senator all wrapped up. He just needed someone to do the dirty work, and hey, there was Cats, fresh off the success of recovering Nok Drayan’s riches. Poster girl for the underworld. The contact, the trust, that had already been established with his help tracking down Skavak. All he had to do was help her get Rogun off her back, and lead her to the Voidwolf, all under the guise of nice legitimate Republic work. Corso shakes his head. He has to hand it to the man. He was good.

What other tricks was Darmas hiding up his sleeve? There’s no point wondering about that now. All his secrets have died with him. Well, maybe not all. They have to find whatever they can on Dodonna. There’ll be something around here somewhere, a dossier, reports. From the sounds of it, Darmas was clearing out completely, shutting up shop and getting the hell out. He’d have holo recordings, data pads, in here.

Cats sighs and pulls away. Corso can’t let himself let go just yet, so he rests his hand on her back, rubbing with his fingertips. She wipes her face; glances over to where Darmas is.

“I need to call Sumalee,” she says. She stands up and makes the call.

Corso keeps an ear on the conversation while he searches through the crates and bags. He avoids looking in Darmas’ direction, stomach still queasy whenever his brain decides to replay the instant Darmas’ head exploded, which is every few seconds at the moment. He finds a stack of datapads easily enough. Not enough time to go through them right now. He knows that Sumalee will love whatever’s in there, but there has to be more. He glances over at Cats. Sounds like she’s keeping herself together. He forces himself to look at Darmas. The blood has cooled and congealed. He swallows his nausea and walks over, bends down, and unbuttons Darmas’ jacket. It’s silk, or something like it. Soft, so soft. Expensive. He grabs a data pad from inside the jacket pocket, and the holo recorder from the other side. When he stands up, Cats is there, staring at Darmas.

“Sumalee’s sending people to clean up. She wants us back at the safe house ASAP.” She says it all to Darmas, not Corso.

“Sounds good.” What else can he say?

She unholsters both her blasters She points them at Darmas and for a sickening second, Corso thinks she’s going to destroy what's left of him, but she turns to the kolto tanks in the operating room and opens fire on them instead.

Shattering glass is one of the most satisfying sounds in the galaxy, so Corso opens fire too, blasting the tanks to pieces, letting the glass tinkle. Cathartic, he realises, as he yells curses at the breaking glass. Maybe that’s why Cats has a smile on her face when they finally leave.

*


End file.
